


take me out in style

by armario



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Episode Tag: S02E16, Infidelity, M/M, Spoilers, why is this a rarepair i'm utterly devastated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 04:58:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18329087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armario/pseuds/armario
Summary: John tries not to analyse each individual emotion he feels when looking at Floyd Lawton.It used to be just hatred. It's not that easy anymore.





	take me out in style

John realises that there was a time where the only reason he'd go back for Lawton was to check that the bastard was dead.

Times change, and so do people. 

Adrenaline makes him move faster, wanting to save the sniper, not die with him.

 To see Lawton calmly standing, accepting his fate, doesn't come as a surprise anymore.

 "We have to go," he says.  
Lawton shakes his head.

 "Lawton," John says, warningly, and it's a strong man who can resist that threatening tone.

"Give me one good reason," the sniper answers, voice cracking.

 John knows he has to play this card. "Zoe."

 Lawton clenches his jaw, closes his eyes for a second. The curt smile of acquiescence is laced with reluctant respect.

 John's grip on his shoulder is firm, as though he's afraid Lawton will turn to smoke in his grasp.

 *

 The two of them stumbled into the van, seconds before the canisters explode. Even being moments from death, and with Lyla painfully digging into the skin of his neck to remove the tracker, Lawton finds time to wind John up.

 "Girl problems?" he mouths with a smirk. He can't do anything without smirking. And trust him to pick up on the tension between John and Lyla. 

 "Not in the mood," John returns, but it's half-hearted and tired. Lyla narrows her eyes, trying to work him out.

 Lawton's expression softens a little, but he doesn't say anything more. After a couple of seconds he kind of tugs his arm out of Lyla's grasp, which luckily, she doesn't pay much attention to.

 "We could stop off for a drink," Tiger suggests from the front of the car. "Before we get back and Waller has us lined up and executed."

 "I can go for that," Lyla agrees. She doesn't seem to find it hard to relate to these criminals at all. John clenches his jaw and looks away.

 Tiger pulls up at a convenience store. "I need vodka," he says gruffly, getting out of the driver's side. "You comin'?"

 Lyla glances at Lawton, the picture of innocence, then at John- stony faced, giving nothing away.

 "I'll go," she sighs. 

So then it's just the two of them. Nothing really to stop John from strangling the fucker to death with his bare hands, apart from honor, and this terrifying, strange respect he's discovered too.  
He can feel Lawton's gaze fixed on him.

 "You okay?" he asks quietly, without giving in and returning the eye contact.

 Lawton doesn't respond and then John turns to look at him, and feels the urge to laugh hysterically at the sheer open want in Lawton's expression.

 "No," John establishes, before Lawton can even try anything. "No way."

 The sniper- that is, the man who killed John's brother- laughs self deprecatingly.

 "I misread you," he says. He sighs and sits back, stares out the window.

 John thinks about it. He hates how fucking confused he feels. He loves Lyla, so much, too much, but he's starting to see her in a different light. And more than that, he's starting to see the world in a different light.

 What he learned about Lawton- his parents, his daughter, his acute death wish, the fact that he was just following a damn order- he can't summon the same kind of hatred anymore.

 And when Lawton does that smirk, he feels this twinge of irritation, but also it's like his stomach drops, and... truthfully, he doesn't know how he feels about anything anymore.

 In an hour or so, he might never see Lawton again. A couple hundred metres away, Tiger and Lyla come out of the convenience store laughing, carrying a bottle each.

 John closes his eyes. "Come here," he says, words quiet like wind rustling through leaves. So quiet that Lawton doubts he even said it.

 John grabs him by his shirt, ignores his wince, and kisses the smirk off his mouth. Lawton's fingers dig into his shoulders and he scrabbles to get closer, starved of contact.

 Then footsteps are too close and John shoves him away, panting lightly. He clears his throat and wipes his mouth so when Lyla climbs back into the car, nothing is amiss.

 He feels Lawton staring at him again and this time, looks right back, trying to keep a straight face through all the amusement, guilt, confusion, need. The sniper isn't smirking now; a more confused, pleasantly surprised, disappointed-it-didn't-go-further look gracing his features.

 "Pass me that bottle," Lawton deadpans.

 


End file.
